


Hunter

by storiesfortravellers



Category: Dexter (TV), Dexter Series - All Media Types, Supernatural
Genre: Dexter's POV, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:00:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/pseuds/storiesfortravellers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For this prompt on comment-fic on LJ: Supernatural/Dexter, Sam + Dean + Dexter, Dexter thinks they're the bad guys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunter

Pain like a knife, shooting through Dexter's head as he came to. 

_Not good,_ Dexter thought as he realized that he was tied to the chair, good and tight too.

He sighed. This wasn't supposed to go this way.

It had been a long time since he had had someone on his table, but these two deserved it more than anyone. They were monsters, far worse than him: they murdered, then dug up the grave to burn the body. They were into some kind of weird demon ritual worship that Dexter had never heard of. Sometimes, they even came back years later to kill their victims' friends. They changed their killing method constantly to avoid being tracked, and they posed as law enforcement to avoid suspicion.

Okay, that last part, Dexter respected.

But Dexter had been careful apprehending them, followed the Rules. He knew the two men were capable, so he went after them one at a time, starting with the one who walked alone through a strip club parking lot.

He didn't remember what happened next, but somehow the guy must have gotten the jump on him.

Dexter looked around from the chair where he was tied up. On the floor surrounding him was a circle of red paint with some ritual symbol in the middle.

 _Great,_ Dexter thought, _Now I'm their next ritual sacrifice._

"Look who's awake," the stripper fan said, his wide smile mocking him, "Let's see what we have here."

The man took a knife and sliced a light line across Dexter's forearm.

 _Blood sample,_ Dexter thought, _How fitting._

But the man looked at the blood like he was surprised by it. Then he took a silver spoon and started rubbing it on Dexter's skin, watching him closely as if he expected some dramatic result.

_Great. Weirdest fucking serial killers ever._

Then the tall one stepped up to him and threw a vial of liquid in his face. Dexter flinched on instinct, but it was just water. He spit the excess off of his lips and looked quite annoyed.

"Don't you worry, princess," strip club said, "We'll figure out what you are." 

He and the tall one went over to the corner to discuss him then. Probably talking about the best way to kill him. Dexter knew that with these guys, it usually involved something elaborate and grotesque.

Dexter tested his ropes again. There was no way out. Nothing nearby to help him get out either.

He was stuck.

He was going to die here. He was never going to have anyone on his table again.

Dexter sighed. _Harry would be so disappointed._


End file.
